


The Gift

by good_fairytale



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Lost Love, Multi, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/good_fairytale/pseuds/good_fairytale
Summary: Two lonely souls in Arda: one grieving over lost love, another longing for love.
Relationships: Celebrían/Elrond Peredhel, Elrond Peredhel/Ereinion Gil-galad
Kudos: 8





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Most characters, places and events in my stories belong to Professor Tolkien. I merely love writing about them and occasionally add something or someone. 
> 
> In my headcanon, I picture Elrond and Gil-Galad as very close friends with implied intimate relationships, so it must have taken Elrond a lot of effort to go on after his King’s death on Dagorlad. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy the story
> 
> *elleth – female elf  
> *ellon – male elf  
> *Erin Galen – the name of Mirkwood before it was shadowed  
> *melindo – lover (male)  
> * The lyrics of the song Celeborn and Galadriel sing at Thranduil and Elerrian’s wedding is a poem by J.R.R. Tolkien devoted to his wife Edith.

Love. Such a simple word with such a complicated set of meanings. It can be translated into any existing language; there must be a close equivalent even in the black tongue for I am certain any creature big or small, good or evil, was, has, or will be stricken by these longing, awe, elation and sadness alloyed. Such a cruel gift it is, love. Once granted with it, heart and soul work together, flourish with life and light. Until it is gone. Once love made me whole, cured my wounds and gave me hope. Now I am an empty vessel. You are gone. Perished in evil flames. Ai, melindo. Once you taught me to let go, to say farewell and go on. Now I am aware that such trick only works for those who have a hand to support them on the journey ahead. Alas, I have no one to hold on to now. I thought I was strong, I thought I would endure; I thought duty would hold me together and time will make my pain wane. Since you were gone, I have been filling my life with labour. With allegiance to our people. In vain. Ai, I am fading. 

Lothlorien, the first years of the Third Age.  
Trills of laughter and gentle singing floated through the woods. They startled fireflies that were dancing above the lush meadow, ethereal green lights floated farther away to continue their mingling above the lake, their reflections joining the reflections of the stars in the dark waters. Two elven maidens danced from behind the trees into the clearing, long silver and golden tresses flowing in the night breeze, light white and silver sleeves billowing around them. They circled the meadow in perfect unison like two glowing butterflies, laughing and singing softly, and graciously sat down on the thick grass at the water’s edge. The silver-haired maiden took her companion’s hand and stroked a thin silver ring adorned with a bright white gem. The golden-haired one inclined her face and touched the other’s cheek with long digits. Her lilting voice filled the night air:  
‘There is only one thing that saddens me, dearest. Soon I will be bound with duties to my new family and his household. I will miss our strolls under the stars, our sweet chatting over embroidery and our rides through the woods’.  
The silver-haired maiden caught her stroking fingers and held both of her hands in hers.  
‘Amuse yourself, dear one. I will often visit you. The journey is not far, my parents will allow me. Let us talk about good things tonight. Have you decided on the day?’  
The golden-haired elleth smiled and shook her head.  
‘There is no space for discussion here. No matter how much I love autumn, Thranduil will have his way. We will choose one day of late spring’.  
They both turned their heads and watched the dancing fireflies in silence.  
‘And what of you?’ – Suddenly asked the golden-haired maiden. Her companion gave her a surprised gaze. ‘What of me?’  
‘Has a comely ellon captured your heart at last, or are you still coveting the one you laid your eye upon when you were a mere child?’  
The silver-haired elleth averted her eyes. Her friend’s smile faded.

Love. I have read stories and learned long lays about it. They have all made me cry, for they say love brings comfort and happiness only for a moment in comparison to strive and grieve it takes to enjoy but a moment of peace. Does it always have to be this way? I see love in my parents’ eyes when they look at each other, and Naneth holds Adar’s hand. I see it in the way Elerrian strokes Thranduil’s cheek and the way he bows his head to kiss her fingers. The one I have in my heart is different. In my dreams, I see our first meeting many centuries ago. Naneth introduced us when we came to the valley where he built a small fortress to defend what was left of Eregion against the Enemy. He courtly bowed to me and never gave me a second glance. We met on official occasions in Lindon, Lorien and Imladris. Even danced together from time to time. I noticed the way many turned their heads his way, but he never gave any reasons for hopes. Ever proper and distant, finely chiseled lineaments schooled into composed tranquility, he remained by the High King’s side. Naneth teased me, seeing my longing, and once said: ‘Tis not your time yet’. I believed her. I have always believed that love comes as a gift for two. 

Eryn Galen, several years later.  
Thranduil’s Great Hall was brightly lit up and adorned in garlands of green leaves and spring flowers. Chirping birds were freely diving to and fro above the heads of noble guests and members of the King’s household, involved in dancing, playing music, singing or chatting over a glass of fine wine. Wedding oaths made, the bride and groom were sitting in high carved wooden chairs on a dais. Elerrian’s smaller hand was laying in her new husband’s one, the couple were smiling, receiving congratulations, toasts in their honour and gifts brought by friends and kin. When the last of the congratulations were said, and the last gifts were handed, Celeborn stood up and tapped his glass with a silver knife. The music and the voices faded, all heads turned to the silver-haired Lord.  
‘Dear King Thranduil and Queen Elerrian, dear friends and kin. To honour the music of your love that gladdens us to hear, Lady Galadriel and I wish to add our words’.  
The Great Hall filled up with curious murmur, as two stately figures proceeded to the dais where musicians were sitting. Celeborn took place at a harp, Galadriel stood by his side. As the gathering went quiet, the music floated and two powerful voices filled the Hall in perfect harmony of ambient waves.  
‘Lo! Young we are and yet we stood  
Like planted hearts in the great Sun  
Of love so long (as two fair trees  
In woodland or in open dale  
Stand utterly entwined and breathe  
The air and suck the very light  
Together) that we have become  
As one, deep rooted in the soil  
Of Life and tangled in the sweet growth.

There was perfect silence as the last waves of music and their echoes died within the walls of the castle. The gathering stood up as one and clasped, the Lord and Lady bowed their heads, hands over hearts, to the King and Queen. Thranduil and Elerrian stood up and mirrored the gesture.

Love. Such a beautiful gift to behold in others’ eyes. The way they look at each other, move as one, speak as one, entwine their lives to support each other. While they are together, they would weather anything, no matter how far they might go from each other, while they still draw breath there is live and light in their hearts. Such is the nature of love. Beholding the ones bonded thusly stirred my sorrows anew. Ai, melindo, my heart is weeping and my soul is restless. I long to be in your arms, and sometimes Lorien is kind to me, sending dreams about the times when we were together. Alas, I pay dearly for his kindness, for my waking is an unbearable torture.

Eryn Galen, that night.  
Light fog was drifting through cool air, its tendrils tangling in willow trees above the transparent waters of the river. The last stars of the night were flickering in the brightening sky. The splashes of the water sounded in turn with the birds calling to one another in the shadowy canopies. The forest basked in pre-morning reverie. The sound of steps in the shallow water made several frogs jump out of the way. A bird stirred on a low branch and whooshed across the river. A glowing silver-haired maiden was slowly walking along the edge of the water, weaving leaves and flowers into a garland with her deft digits. The river was playing with the long sleeves and hem of her pale blue gown. Looking up from her work, she swept aside thick willow veil and startled. A black-haired ellon was sitting propped against the mighty trunk. His grey eyes were half-closed in sleep, and a heavy volume bound in leather had slipped down his lap into the thick grass. She came closer and crouched in front of him, touching his cold hand. Something stirred up in the tree. The ellon woke with a start. They froze for several heartbeats, looking into each other’s eyes; one making sure the other breathed, the other making sure he was awake.  
‘Celebrian?’ – He whispered, withdrawing his hand from her light grip.  
‘Elrond Peredhel in his own person, sleeping under a tree in the middle of Eryn Galen, cold and covered in morning dew. What a prize.’ – She laughed. The corners of his lips jerked up, as if he smiled for a split second.  
‘Celebrian, the only daughter of the Lady of Light, strolling alone and barefoot in the middle of Eryn Galen. What a folly.’ – He retorted.  
‘I couldn’t rest,’ – she sighed.  
‘I, at least, was trying to,’ - he put off his outer robe and invited her to sit down on it. She took his hand and graciously lowered herself onto the folded garment. They watched the river flowing past them behind the willow curtain, listening to the ever-changing song of the world.  
Sun was about to rise, the tendrils of the fog were drifting away. Above them, in the canopy of trees, birds started to wake up and chirp in cheerful voices. The music of the forest started to rise to welcome the light and warmth.  
Elrond started weaving words into the melody in a rich deep voice, singing about endless music of life, light overwhelming darkness and hope prevailing over grief. She joined him, an elegant, lilting soprano singing of compassion, redemption and endless love that mends everything broken. Their songs entwined and sored, stilling the world in its tracks, giving respite to a hunter aiming an arrow at a fawn, bringing a moment of rest to the ailing and consolation to the grieving. The symphony of the forest carried the mighty words on into the world in songs of birds and on the wings of butterflies.  
They sat for long hours looking into each other’s eyes, bespelled and overwhelmed with what they had discovered in each other. At last, Celebrian found her voice.  
‘We can’t sit here forever staring at each other like Thingol and Melian. I, for one, do not have thirty years to waste. Come, lest they sent out searching parties for us. We both need dry clothes and hot tea.’  
‘So be it, my Lady. Shall I escort you to your quarters now?’ – He whispered sheepishly.  
‘Adar and Naneth will be happy to see us together.’  
‘Wet and disheveled? No doubts.’  
He leaned to pick up his book and cloak, stretched a hand for Celebrian to hold on, and they strode back to the fortress through the sunlit wood in companiable silence.  
There was a noise of movement up in the old willow again several moments after Elrond and Celebrian left. A young fair-haired ellon in a light-grey and green livery of Lorien and a black-haired elleth in a dark- grey tabard and light silver armour landed on the grass. The elleth squared her shoulders and brushed her sleeves, while the ellon was coughing and rubbing his neck and chest.  
‘Did you really have to keep me down in a choke hold all this time, old… witch?’- He wheezed.  
‘My apologies, young one. I am on duty. My Lord at last was able to find some rest once in a long while, though in such an inadequate place. I knew Lady Celebrian meant no harm to him, yet you were a potential risk.’- The stately shieldmaiden replied in a deep voice, hands on hilts of two curved swords at her hips.  
‘I am on duty, too! My Lady fled into the forest in the dead of the night. I was guarding her and didn’t mean any harm to your Lord!’  
‘Nice try, little one.’ – She patted the exasperated ellon on the shoulder. ‘However, if thousands of years in this world have taught me anything, they soon shall be our Lord and Lady.’ She pointedly turned to follow her Lord.


End file.
